


Questions Left Unasked

by ContreParry



Series: PTA!Fenders [2]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Gen, Judaism in Thedas, M/M, PTA!Fenders, Parent!AU, Religious Practices in Thedas, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, jewish elves, marriage proposals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-10 22:39:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8942203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ContreParry/pseuds/ContreParry
Summary: They've had thousands of conversations and live together, but there is one question Fenris has not asked yet.For the Fenders Skype Group fic exchange.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this two part fic for a Fenders gift exchange, because I couldn't write part two without writing part one. Hopefully part two will be published before the end of the week!
> 
> This marks the slow return of PTA!Fenders!

It was a question left unasked. 

Oh, they had had their discussions, and many questions were answered in these long talks. They went through all the particulars that couples have to go through when learning to share a life together. Whose money was whose (The answer was three accounts, two private and one shared). Where did they see themselves in the future (While happy was the simple answer, happy, successful, and still in love was the ideal). What religious practices did they share (None, but they could respect that). How would chores be divided (Fenris does the yard work, Anders cooks, and they share cleaning duties with the children). 

And speaking of children, which house would they live and raise their family in (Anders’s, because shoving a family of four with a dog and a cat into a two bedroom apartment was not advisable). Which schools should they send the children to (The best non-Chantry schools, obviously). Which parent should discipline which child? How do you even discipline a child who is only yours through marriage? Should they adopt each other’s children? They eventually decided on shared discipline, and conversation before any punishments were implemented. They tabled the adoption talk for when the children were older. 

So if they were going to get married, where was the best place to do it? Anders refused to get married in a Chantry, and Fenris felt uncomfortable just signing a paper in a courtroom. That felt like a business contract, and Fenris had his fill of contracts. If he was signing his life away, he wanted it to be different from his time with Danarius. It would be somewhere outside, Fenris decided, with enough room for their friends to witness them, a contract that would not chain him but set him free, with a canopy to stand under with Anders and their children, good food, and music to dance to once the ceremony was finished. Anders only wanted a ring on his finger and Fenris’s word that they would try their best and never go to bed angry at each other. 

All these conversations, all these questions answered, kaffas they _live_ together now, but there was one question they never asked. 

”Papa, are you saying you haven’t even _asked_?!” Victoria shrieked as they drove towards the Hightown shopping centre. Fenris picked the children up from their mage counseling sessions with Ms. Leliana and Ms. Evelyn, and casually mentioned that they may or may not be shopping for Satinalia gifts for Anders. And Fenris may have told the children that he needed their particular help picking out a small bit of jewelry so he could finally ask a question that had not been asked. 

”We have had conversations, Victoria.” Fenris replied. “We agree that we want to marry. I just haven’t proposed yet.” It had to be perfect, and the moment was never _perfect_. 

”Has Dad asked?” Nick asked quietly. Fenris looked back at Nick through the rear-view mirror. The boy was biting his lip and hugging his backpack to his chest. Next to him Victoria was a bouncing ball of blazing indignation. 

”No, Nick. Your father has not proposed to me yet.” Fenris said gently. “So I will ask him.” Nick nodded in agreement and his grip on his bag loosened. His expression smoothed out into contented smile. Fenris parked the car and got out, and made sure the children were out safely before holding their hands and walking towards the shops. They were thankfully at the age where hand holding was mostly okay, save for the rare occasions when they might be spotted by a fellow classmate. 

”Papa, we _have_ to buy a ring!” Victoria exclaimed, tugging both Fenris and Nick through the parking lot with excited little hops. The shopping centre was decked out with Satinalia decorations. Wreaths of pine branches and bunches of holly hung from every lamp post and in every shop window. A Chantry sister stood in an entrance with a bell and a donation bucket, and the sound of Free Marcher Satinalia carols rang through the speakers. Nick looked at a coffee shop and bakery with great longing before Victoria pulled them into the jewelry store. The dwarven woman behind the counter waved at them. Her black curls were falling out of the loose bun on the top of her head. 

”Good afternoon! How can I help you?” She asked cheerfully. “Looking for something for a special someone?” 

”Yes!” Victoria said loudly. “We need a ring.” 

”An engagement ring.” Nick added hastily. “For a man.” 

”It’s a surprise for my… my fiancé.” Fenris told the woman once he was close enough to have a private conversation. “We’re already planning a wedding, but the ring never came up.” 

”Then we’ll have to find a ring for you, then!” The woman declared, and she led the group of a glass case filled with rings. Nick and Victoria immediately began scanning the rings, Victoria immediately looking at the rings covered in jewels and engravings. 

”Papa, look!” She pointed to a gold ring with a big yellow stone set in it. “It’s the same color as Pounce’s eyes!” 

”Oh, that’s amber. Not the most durable stone for a wedding band.” The dwarven woman clucked her tongue. “But it is very pretty. You have a good eye, little lady!” 

”I don’t think a fancy ring will work, Victoria.” Fenris said. Anders loved fine and fancy things, but he had an eye for the practical as well. He would want a wedding ring that would last. And he wouldn’t wear such an elaborate ring when he had to work with his animals all day. No, Fenris would have to pick something else. 

”Maybe this one?” Nick suggested, pointing to a more delicate ring with a ruby stone next to Victoria’s showy ring. “Oh, but the size is wrong. Dad’s ring finger is a size nine.” 

”I see.” Fenris said. Nick flushed and looked away, a clear sign of guilt if ever there was one, and Fenris wondered just how Nick came across this information. He decided not to press further. Nick was already embarrassed and Fenris didn’t want to make the boy feel more uncomfortable. 

It was as he turned his head to look back at the selections that he saw it- a ring made of three strands of silver braided together. The braid tied different threads together into an unbroken whole. And wasn’t that a perfect bit of symbolism, Fenris thought wryly as he looked at the size of the ring. A nine. Perhaps there was such a thing as fate. 

”This one.” Fenris told the woman, pointing to the ring in the display. “It’s perfect.” 

-

The children planned the proposal over cups of hot chocolate at the café Nick gazed at earlier. Fenris sipped his black coffee and listened as Victoria and Nick debated where the best place to propose would be. 

”Papa, don’t do it in public because that’s rude.” Victoria said with all the confidence of an authority on marriage proposals. “Auntie Isabela says it’s very nasty to propose in public because it makes everyone else a part of your relationship.” 

”Auntie Isabela is right. I will propose in private.” Fenris promised. 

”We can go to Hawke’s for a sleepover!” Nick suggested. “Or at least he can watch us so you and dad can be alone together.” 

”For a date.” Victoria added. “You have to dress up, papa.” 

”And if you go out you shouldn’t propose in a restaurant because that’s what everybody does.” Nick said. “You should surprise him.” 

Fenris drank his coffee and let the children debate over the perfect proposal. Fenris slipped his hand into his coat pocket and patted the silver ring. Now that he had the ring, everything was falling into place. When the moment was right he would know. 

-

When they returned home the children dumped their shoes and coats in the entryway before taking out their homework and hurrying to the kitchen to set their books down on the table. Fenris knew they would play for a little while before going back to the kitchen to settle down and get to work. Victoria would struggle with her spelling, and Nick would patiently plod through his math worksheets. Anders’s obnoxious cat would jump on the table and sit his fat, furry body on top of the scattered papers as they worked. Anders would return home from the clinic, full of stories about his animal patients. Fenris would trade stories from the dance studio, and the children would pipe in with their own tales. 

Then they would eat dinner. There was a paella recipe Fenris saved on his phone that reminded him of his childhood, so he would cook tonight. Anders would wash up and Fenris would pack up the leftovers. Afterwards they would spend time together as a family. They would walk the dog, look over Victoria and Nick’s homework, and either watch television or play a board game. When it was eight thirty Fenris would urge the children to go upstairs and get ready for bed. While the kids got ready, Anders would prepare the coffee maker for the morning and Fenris would rearrange the coats in the entranceway. After they made sure the children were dressed with teeth brushed, they would tuck Victoria and Nick into bed and go back downstairs. Private adult time included more serious discussions, but it also included cuddling and kisses. When it was finally late they would walk around downstairs and turn off all the lights (Anders) and lock all the doors (Fenris). Then they would head upstairs, change into pajamas, and tumble into bed. It was a daily pattern that Fenris treasured, an easy rhythm that felt as natural as breathing as Anders cuddled up to him and wrapped his long limbs around him as they fell asleep. 

Fenris wondered when he could suggest a date night so he could propose. Perhaps before dinner? He would suggest that they go on a dinner date, where he would wine and dine Anders before going on a walk through the park. He could propose in front of that duck pond under the glow of the street lamps. He couldn’t promise Anders the world, but he could promise to share his life and love, and that was more than most people could offer. 

Or they could go to that Par Vollen fusion café and share dessert after watching a movie. And while Anders ranted about some aspect of the film that was just _so_ very _wrong_ Fenris would hand him the ring and let him know how much he mattered to him. He could not promise forever, but he could promise him the rest of his years so they could spend them together. 

Or they could ice skate together, slipping and sliding across the ice and falling into each other as they found their footing. And when they walked home holding hands with their noses cherry red from the cold Fenris would tell Anders how much his life changed for the better for having him in it. 

Or perhaps they could go dancing. Fenris was always better expressing himself physically instead of with words. He could lead Anders from a paso doble to a tango to a waltz, a story of aggression turning to passion turning to tender love. Fenris could not always say what he wanted, but Anders always tried to understand him. 

There were many ways to ask questions, but Fenris did not know the perfect way to ask. 

While Fenris daydreamed over the near future, Victoria and Nick went off into the living room to play with Bear. Anders was running late today, probably because of an emergency patient at the clinic. It was normal for Anders, because the man loved his animals and was a workaholic. Fenris began to cook dinner when the front door opened and Anders cheerfully called out to the household. 

”I’m back!” Anders shouted. The children yelled their own greetings, and Fenris emerged from the kitchen to greet Anders. 

Anders had taken off his hat and was shaking his head, his blond hair beautiful in the late afternoon sunlight. Beautiful. Fenris stared as Anders pulled off his jacket and unwrapped his scarf from around his neck. His neck was long and elegant and pale, dotted with little orange freckles down the back. The hair at the nape of Anders’s neck was darker than the hair above it, and clung to the skin in wispy curls. 

”How was work?” Fenris asked, his attention focused on the tired smile on Anders’s lips and the excitement that lit up his brown eyes. He was exhausted and so _perfect_ it hurt to look at him. His hair was mussed and falling out of his elastic hair tie in golden red waves. The little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were clearly visible, and Anders’s scruff was messy and dark on his cheeks. There was a little nick at his jaw where he had cut himself earlier that morning. He wasn’t perfect, no, but at that moment he was everything Fenris ever wanted. There was his steady ground, his safe harbor, his calm in this crazy, crazy world. When Fenris grew and changed, Anders grew right alongside him. 

Love wasn’t static. Love wasn’t easy. Love was a challenge. It was a trial. Love was hard work. 

But for Anders, Fenris would work. 

”Miss Prissy Paws had her litter!” Anders gushed as he hung up his coat. His scrubs were hideous, a pale blue covered in patchwork outlines of cats, and it hung in a wrinkled mess on his skinny frame. “Two little kittens as big as my thumb, and so sweet! Fenris, you have to see them!” 

_Marry me,_ Fenris thought desperately. _I don’t have the words but please, please understand me like you always do, please._

”Fenris? Is everything alright?” Anders asked, his warm brown eyes full of concern. “Are you feeling well?” Anders placed one cool hand over Fenris’s forehead, and his smile was so tender, so sweet, what was he supposed to do now that Anders was staring at him with so much concern and love- 

”Marry me.” Fenris blurted out. He reached into his back pocket and fumbled with the silver ring, the braided metal gleaming in its bright circle as he held it up to the light and offered it to Anders. It was nothing like he imagined or planned, his impromptu proposal in their messy hallway with Anders in his scrubs and the sun shining on his golden hair. But this was real. 

Anders smiled and leaned down to kiss him, soft and easy, and Fenris felt Anders take the ring in his hand. When Fenris pulled back Anders held up his left hand, the ring gleaming on his ring finger. 

”Of course.” Anders said, and then he bent over the bench and pulled out a box from his coat pocket. He offered the box to Fenris and opened the lid. There was a plain silver band nestled in the blue velvet. 

”I was going to take you out on a date.” Anders said, his cheeks pink and smile bashful. “I thought we could walk around the botanical gardens, or go ice skating, or give it as my Satinalia gift, but you sort of beat me to the punch. I didn’t even realize we’ve been planning our wedding and hadn’t properly proposed until Nick mentioned it.” 

Fenris took the ring and put it on his finger, admiring the way it glittered in the sunlight. He wrapped his arms around Anders’s waist and held him close. 

”Victoria was furious with me.” Fenris laughed. “The lecture was impressive.” 

”I’m certain it was.” Anders teased. His chin rested on top of Fenris’s head, and Fenris cuddled closer. “So, what did my _fiancé_ make for dinner tonight?” 

”Perhaps my fiancé should come into the kitchen and see.” Fenris joked, and they walked into the kitchen hand in hand, their matching rings shiny and new on their hands. 

It was a question finally asked and answered. 

_Will you marry me?_

_Yes._


	2. Sweater Weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Fenris go to an ugly sweater party. Fenris and Anders also struggle to incorporate holiday traditions in their shared lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to tumblr user fenrisesque, who pointed to the excellent blog Writing with Color to help incorporate Judaism into Thedas. It isn't perfect, so I will edit the story in the future as I learn more. The story was put up earlier than I would have liked so it would be here in time for the holidays. If any of you could take the time to leave a comment letting me know how I can improve my writing, I would really appreciate it!
> 
> Thank you all! Happy reading!

“Absolutely not.” Anders turned up his long nose and sniffed dismissively at the article of clothing Fenris held in his hands. 

“Anders. It will only be for a few hours at most.” Fenris explained for what seemed like the thousandth time. “You can endure that much, can’t you?” 

“No. I’ll stay here with the children, the cat, and the dog. We’ll watch **The Littlest Mabari** or **Thunder Upon The Mountains** and eat popcorn. You can go get drunk with our friends and exchange White Druffalo gifts.” Anders insisted. 

“You will survive.” Fenris said. “We will enjoy dinner with our friends, endure their strange gift exchange, and return home at eleven. We already paid Orana to care for Victoria and Nick while we’re gone. They so looked forward to it.” 

The children had been bouncing around the house all week at the prospect of spending an entire evening with Fenris’s shy student, one of their favorite babysitters outside their large collection of uncles and aunts. Victoria planned an entire itinerary of activities for the evening, including baking cookies, playing board games, and planning the music for their fathers’ upcoming wedding in the spring. Nick already picked out a selection of movies for them to watch. They were excited for a night without their parents, and Victoria continued to say that the two adults should enjoy themselves and stay out later than they promised. She thought her suggestions were subtle, which amused Fenris to no end. 

“I will be perfectly _humiliated_ , you mean.” Anders retorted, and he tossed his blond hair back with a shake of his head. He was pouting now, though he was mostly exaggerating and putting on a show for fun. He wore uglier outfits in all those foster homes when he was growing up. It was just one sweater. One ugly, ugly sweater. 

“Anders.” Fenris sighed. “Put on the damn sweater and get in the car.” 

“It is _hideous_ , Fenris, and you aren’t one for Satinalia celebrations! Why are you making me wear a Satinalia sweater?” Anders whined. 

Anders knew it wasn’t a fair argument. Fenris did not celebrate Satinalia. He wasn’t Andrastian. Though he did not follow the Dalish teachings devoutly, Fenris celebrated Dalish holidays and customs. Anders found out how tied Fenris was to his culture after they moved in together. Fenris celebrated Dalish holidays with Victoria, and Anders and Nick were slowly drawn into participating in Dalish practices with them. 

But there were surprises as well, and Anders found it hard to reconcile what he had always known with what was new. The cultural divide grew more apparent as they planned their wedding. Anders remembered the drawn out conversation they had over the details of the ceremony. Anders had no particular interest in any religious ceremonies. He had done it before with Karl, and Anders didn’t want to stand in front of another Chantry Mother and hear her drone on about love and devotion when she clearly didn’t care to marry a mage to an elf. Anders did not want the Chantry involved in his marriage, and he would have been happy just signing a license and having a nice dinner out. But Fenris wanted a wedding, a small one to celebrate with their friends and family. It was difficult to compromise, but they had to try. 

-

_”We could just go to the Registration Office and sign the papers. It’s a lot easier.” Anders argued. He refused to get married in a Chantry, even if Sebastian officiated. Fenris was comfortable holding the ceremony at the Wounded Coast Botanical Gardens, and was willing to forego the usual singing of the Chant in favor of the old Circle tradition of handfasting that Anders favored. But Fenris insisted on getting married under a Dalish wedding canopy._

_”Why a wedding canopy?” Anders asked as they looked over different pictures of the gardens in the spring to select the best place for the ceremony. It all seemed like such a bother to organize everything. That was why handfasting was so prevalent in Circles throughout history. All it required were the people getting married and a piece of string. It may not have been a “real” ceremony, but it was real enough for those who participated._

_”It is important to me.” Fenris said shortly. “What about the Antivan courtyard garden? The fountain is nice.”_

_”On scale of one to ten,” Anders asked, employing a technique Fenris so often used with Victoria to rate the importance of a wish or task. “How important is the wedding canopy?”_ __

_”A nine.” Fenris said promptly._

_”That’s… important.” Anders replied. “I can’t say no to a nine.” And he wouldn’t want to. Fenris so rarely asked for anything, Anders couldn’t deny him this one request. And Fenris was willing to handfast for him, so what was the harm?_

_”It’s just… you aren’t Dalish, Fenris.” Anders pointed out carefully, aware that it was delicate ground to tread on. “I didn’t realize how much it mattered to you.”_

_”My mother was devout, as was my sister.” Fenris had said softly. “When I light the candles and sing the prayers, I feel close to them again. Now, do you prefer the Antivan courtyard garden or Orlesian rose garden for the ceremony?”_

-

Anders understood family. He was happy to help Fenris celebrate his holidays and customs now he knew what it meant to his fiancé. Now their blended family celebrated the winter holidays of Satinalia and the Homecoming Festival together. Anders put up a pine tree and baked more gingerbread mabari than they could possibly eat while telling the children old Anderfels tales of spirits who kept watch over the good and bad children of the villages and left candies in their shoes in the night. Fenris set up the traditional lamp shaped like Halla antlers in the front window, and he taught the children small prayers and songs dedicated to Ghilan’nain while lighting the wicks. Neither of them were particularly fond of organized religion, but they embraced the holidays as a time to celebrate finding a home and forming a family. But forming a family and home, Anders thought with a bit of dissatisfaction in his heart, did _not_ mean putting on an ugly sweater for your fiancé’s entertainment! 

”Hideous.” Anders muttered as he glared at the sweater in his hands. 

“Anders. You wear scrubs with cat faces on them every day. You can wear an ugly Satinalia sweater for one party.” Fenris pointed out, and Anders sniffed again. After all, that sweater was _hideous_. It was woven from scratchy wool dyed bright green and red and adorned with a picture of a mabari wearing Andraste’s starburst crown. It was a gift from Hawke, hence the mabari. Anders hated it. It would not be so terrible if it were a cat, but still! Hawke was a terrible gift giver. 

”Your sweater isn’t nearly as ugly.” Anders complained as he pulled the ugly mabari sweater over his head. Fenris wandered into the kitchen while Anders looked at himself in the hallway mirror. His hair was mussed up and his sweater wrinkled, so he smoothed the strands down with his fingers and tugged the sweater down so it fit properly. Anders heard Nick and Victoria arguing in the living room over the merits of different board games as they waited for Orana to come and watch them for the evening. 

”Why can’t we play **Inquisition!**?” Nick asked. 

”Nick, that game takes _forever_! Even with our house rules!” Victoria whined. “Can’t we play **The Orlesian Ball** instead?” 

”We played that last week!” Nick protested. “With Dad and Papa!” 

”Yeah, but Dad and Papa got all weird about it. It doesn’t count.” Victoria replied, and Anders just knew the girl had squinted her eyes and wrinkled her nose in her standard expression of disgust. She probably even stuck her tongue out, Anders thought fondly. 

So perhaps Anders had taken the role of the Orlesian courtesan Lady Mauve a little too seriously. He flirted outrageously with Fenris the entire game, but was it such a crime to flirt? The children evidently thought so, because they complained every time the elegant Lady Mauve batted her eyelashes at the dashing Captain Moss. No sense of romance, but that was to be expected. They were only ten, after all. 

”What about Nug Racers? It’s multiplayer” Nick finally suggested, naming a video game the two liked to play together, and the argument was over as soon as it started. Fenris finally returned to the front hallway in his much prettier sweater. 

”See!” Anders complained, gesturing towards the sparkling blue and white sweater. “It’s not nearly as hideous!” 

”It is a sweater celebrating the Dalish Homecoming Festival.” Fenris retorted. “It has tinsel. It counts.” The sweater had a knitted white halla and its many branched horns in the center and silver tinsel stars stitched into the blue wool. It was infinitely less silly than Anders’s mabari sweater, but Anders acknowledged that it was a legitimately ugly sweater. Fenris just made everything look beautiful. The glittery sweater was gorgeous on him, which was just unfair. 

”Fine. But I absolutely refuse to sing Chantry carols.” Anders grumbled, and Fenris laughed before pressing a kiss to Anders’s cheek. “Not even if you get me drunk on Sebastian’s stash of Starkhaven whiskey. I refuse!” 

”It is just as well. I do not know many Chantry songs.” Fenris said easily as the doorbell rang out. The children ran into the hallway. Victoria’s braided pigtails were falling out of their elastics again, while Nick’s hair was a halo of messy blonde curls. Bear the mabari and Pounce the cat somehow joined the welcoming committee as Fenris opened the door and let Orana inside the house. 

”Orana!” Victoria and Nick shrieked, nearly bowling the lithe girl over with their enthusiastic hugs. Bear started barking, and Pounce descended down the stairs to give the girl a curious look over. Pounce lingered on the first step and flicked his tail back and forth, while Bear bounced about the hall wiggling his entire body. 

”Children! Behave!” Fenris said sharply in the sort of tone that normally got Anders dropping his smalls to the floor because Fenris barking out orders _did_ things to him. The children retreated, and Orana immediately made excuses for them. 

”It really is no trouble, Messere Fenris, I don’t mind!” Orana giggled, giving the children hugs before she took off her big green coat and unwrapped her lavender colored scarf from around her neck. Anders took the items (along with the girl’s bright blue earmuffs) and hung them up on the hooks behind the wooden bench Fenris insisted they put in the front hall. It would keep their family more organized, Fenris argued, but the bench and the hooks only served as a resting place for all their coats and shoes and other household junk. 

”Yes, but they know better.” Anders said cheerfully. He shrugged on his jacket, a dark teal peacoat Fenris bought him for his birthday. Fenris told Orana the children’s schedule as he pulled on his own jacket. It was black of course, Anders thought with exasperated fondness. It was difficult to convince Fenris to wear colors. He said that wearing black was simple and prevented accidents with the laundry, but Anders pointed out that he handled their laundry now, so wearing colorful outfits shouldn’t be so difficult for Fenris now. 

”We have vegetable stew in the crockpot on the counter, and they may have a mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows or whipped cream. The marshmallows are kosher, so Victoria can have them.” Fenris said as he wrapped his bright red scarf around his neck. “Bedtime is at ten, since it’s a Friday and a special occasion.” 

”We have everything to make sugar cookies and frosting. Feel free to bake some. The kids know where everything is.” Anders added. “Watch out for Pounce and Bear, they tag team and steal treats.” 

”I’ll keep a close eye on them, Messere Anders.” Orana promised. 

”I know you will.” Anders said before he grabbed the two gifts for the White Druffalo exchange from the hallway table. Anders had filled two large mason jars with the layered dry ingredients for his chocolate and coconut macaroons, and Fenris wrapped the jars up in beautiful white wrapping paper dusted with silver stars. Now dressed in their ugly sweaters with gifts in hand, they were ready to leave for Hawke’s party. Anders hoped the children would behave for Orana. They had been so rowdy today! 

”Don’t worry, Messere Anders, Messere Fenris. We’ll be fine here!” Orana promised. “Have fun at your party!” 

”We’ll be good, papa!” Victoria said earnestly. 

”Don’t worry about us!” Nick added, and the children pushed their parents out the front door. 

They were quiet as they buckled into their seats. Fenris took the driver’s seat, and Anders held the presents in his lap as they backed out of the driveway and started the drive to Hawke’s house, cutting through neighborhoods and taking the “scenic” route. Other households had Satinalia lights strung up outside their homes, though Anders spied a few homes with Antivan lanterns set out on the ground instead of the traditional electric lights. There were one or two homes with the now familiar Dalish Halla lamp set in the front window. Three candles were lit out of the seven, seven prongs for the seven days Ghilan’nain was left lost and sightless in the woods before she was turned into a halla and found her home at the side of Andruil. 

”Is the Homecoming Festival a large part of Dalish culture?” Anders asked when they reached a stoplight. Fenris shrugged his shoulders in response, his proud profile thrown into stark relief by the street lights. 

”Not particularly. But with so many Andrastians celebrating Satinalia around the same time, it became commercialized. Now it seems bigger than it really is. There are more important holidays.” Fenris explained. 

”Like the Dalish New Year?” Anders asked. Anders remembered the New Year celebrations dedicated to Mythal, mostly because Fenris fasted during the day and ate after the sun went down. Nick had felt extremely guilty over the fasting and wondered if it was alright to eat when Fenris couldn’t, but Fenris assured the boy that he did not have to participate if he didn’t want to. After all, Fenris explained, Victoria couldn't fast because she was too young. If either of them wanted to join in and fast for the New Year, they could participate when they were thirteen. Anders remembered the day fondly. He cooked traditional dishes from the Dalish tribes that lived around Tevinter, and the time he spent looking for recipes and ingredients was worth it when Fenris saw the food displayed on the table. His smile rivaled Victoria’s sunny grins at that moment, and Anders was filled with joy. 

”Yes, Anders, like the New Year.” Fenris said with a small, indulgent smile. “Or the holiday dedicated to Dirthamen and Falon’Din.” 

”Right.” Anders replied. “The death one.” 

”That’s a simple way to put it, yes.” Fenris sighed, but he took Anders’s hand in his and brought it to his lips. “Do we turn right or left?” 

”Left.” Anders said. “Fenris, do you think we could ask Orana to house sit for us when we go on our honeymoon? It’s only for a week but I would feel more comfortable with someone in the house.” 

”We could. Or we could ask Hawke. They’re already looking after Nick, Victoria, Pounce, and Bear.” 

”Hawke will kill your plants, Fenris.” Anders pointed out. “All the plants.” 

”We’ll ask.” Fenris promised, and the rest of the ride was taken in comfortable silence. Fenris never let go of Anders’s hand. 

Eventually they parted when they reached Hawke’s home, a surprisingly nice house in the old part of town. The place had been refurbished by Hawke’s parents, and Hawke now looked after the place after Malcolm and Leandra retired and downsized. Hawke had decorated the house with a giant display of flashing lights and bright colors. 

”Is that a dragon made of electric lights?” Anders asked, staring at the bright red monstrosity that clung to Hawke’s chimney. Fenris sighed and tugged Anders up the steps to the front door. 

”It is Hawke.” Fenris said, adopting the same tone that a bored child would use when reciting a boring fact. “I am surprised it is not two dragons.” 

Fenris had a good point, Anders thought as he gazed up at the winged creature that had its head thrown back in a silent, mighty roar. Hawke would have put up two dragons if they could. They probably tried to figure out how to make the dragon spit out real flames. Hawke was mad enough to try. Anders stopped craning his neck back to stare at the dragon just in time to ring the doorbell. A moment later the door swung open and a tiny woman with short dark hair who was swimming in a giant blue sweater with a golden tinsel star woven in the center. Her scarf was also made of tinsel. All of it was tinsel. Anders suspected she just bought tinsel tree trimming and knitted her scarf out of that. 

”Aneth ara, Fenris, Anders!” Merrill greeted the two men as they entered the foyer. “Hawke is in the kitchen, checking on the mulled wine! I will take your coats and put them upstairs!” 

”No need, Merrill. I will put them up.” Anders offered as he shrugged out of his coat and took Fenris’s coat and scarf. “But if you could show Fenris where to put the White Druffalo gifts, we’d appreciate that!” 

”Of course! If you’ll follow me, Fenris!” Merrill said with her customary bounce. “And your sweater is lovely, Fenris! Such a beautiful halla!” 

”Thank you, Merrill.” Fenris said, his voice and Merrill’s growing fainter as Anders walked upstairs and disappeared into the guest bedroom. Hawke’s wild decorating even extended upstairs, where someone strung up multicolored lights around the doorways and shoved a fake tree in the corner. Anders dumped the coats on the bed next to the other coats on the bed. He hurried down the stairs and went into Hawke’s living room, where Rogue, Hawke’s mabari, lingered at the feet of Hawke’s many friends in hopes he would snatch up a dropped morsel of food. Hawke shoved a mug of hot chocolate into Anders’s hands. Hawke’s sweater was a giant dragon wearing a giant Satinalia crown of pine boughs and electric lights. The lights blinked on and off in an array of brilliant colors. When Anders sipped the hot cocoa there was a bite of whiskey lingering under the creamy chocolate. Hawke grinned and clapped his back hard. 

”Thought I’d sneak you a drink, your man said you’re the driver tonight.” Hawke teased before leaving to speak with the other guests, and Anders rolled his eyes. He was hardly a lightweight, but Fenris worried. Anders promised that he would keep to this one drink and eat plenty of food. It would ease Fenris’s mind. 

Where was Fenris anyways? Anders saw that Varric (wearing a low cut V-neck sweater in a zig zag rainbow of colors) and Hawke were chatting together by the fire, and Hawke’s younger brother Carver (in a bright blue sweater covered in gryphons) was trying to flirt with Merrill, who was sipping on a glass of mulled wine and earnestly talking to Bethany (in a wool sweater with a bunny wearing Andraste’s starburst crown). Aveline and Donnic, wearing matching red sweaters with a family of bears wearing Satinalia wreaths, carried food from the kitchen to the dining room table. Anders finally spied that familiar, beloved shock of white hair standing next to the table Hawke set up as a bar. 

Fenris stood between Isabela and Sebastian with a mug of wine in hand. Sebastian’s sweater was covered in glittering felt snowflakes, and Isabela’s was a particularly lewd image of Andraste’s bare breasts superimposed over Isabela’s own generous bosom. Sebastian was carefully staring into Isabela’s eyes, and his gaze did not drift lower than her chin. 

”Anders!” Isabela called out once she spotted Anders. “Come over here!” 

”Isabela, how good to see you!” Anders said cheerfully. “Your sweater is lovely.” 

”I’ll let you borrow it sometime.” Isabela joked, wrapping her slender, muscled arm around Anders’s waist. “But we have so much to talk about!” She grinned and lowered her voice to a whisper, her eyes fixed on the silver ring on Anders’s hand. 

”Fenris absolutely refuses to tell us how you two proposed to each other, and we’re _dying_ to know.” Isabela cooed. “How many cavities will we get?” 

”If Fenris hasn’t told then I won’t breathe a word.” Anders teased. “I happen to love my fiancé and won’t betray his confidence.” 

Anders loved Fenris’s rushed proposal in their hallway. He wouldn’t trade it for the world. Fenris just stared up at him with those big, misty green eyes as if he was gazing upon something holy before he blurted out the words “Marry me” and fumbled with a ring. It was clumsy, sweet, earnest, and exactly like Fenris. It was better than anything Anders could have come up with. Fenris was endearing and romantic at the strangest moments. He was honest and loyal and full of love, and his proposal was exactly why Anders loved him. But Fenris was still embarrassed that he hadn’t made a grand romantic gesture. Anders would not make Fenris feel more insecure by having their friends tease him over the delivery of his proposal. 

”Pssh, you’re no fun.” Isabela muttered. “How much alcohol do I have to put in your system before you give the information up?” 

”Designated driver tonight, Isabela.” Anders said cheekily. “Fenris and I drew lots.” 

“And Fenris will pass out before wine loosens his tongue.” Sebastian chuckled. “So it will remain a secret!” 

“No fun.” Isabela pouted before tossing her glass back. “Time to bother Aveline and ask if her turning down that ale means there’s another red-headed bun in the oven.” She flounced off, and Sebastian shook his head before turning to Anders and Fenris and smiling warmly at them. 

”I am pleased you found each other.” He said fondly. “I know you do not hold with the Chantry, but if you ever need my help, I am here. Even if all you need is a signature on a license.” 

Anders didn’t hold with the Chantry. He hated the way the Chantry interfered with his life, with the lives of all mages, but Sebastian meant well. He also helped Fenris with everything from adopting Victoria to finding his footing in Kirkwall to being a friend. So Anders smiled and shook Sebastian’s hand. 

”We may need help performing a handfasting.” Fenris told Sebastian. “We can discuss it at another time.” 

”Yes. I should make sure Aveline doesn’t strangle Isabela with that strand of lights.” Sebastian said, dismissing himself to rein in Isabela. Anders joined Fenris and took his hand. 

”You seem happy.” Anders commented. He ran his thumb along Fenris’s ring, and the feeling of the silver band against the pad of his thumb sent thrills up his arm. His fiancé. _His_ fiancé, who was so handsome and charming and sweet. Fenris laughed and kissed Anders’s cheek, his mouth soft against Anders’s scruff. 

”You saved me from an interrogation.” Fenris replied. “I am _very_ happy.” 

”You two just get more disgustingly sappy every time I see you.” Varric said jovially as he came around the drink table and poured himself a liberal amount of rum into his glass. He lifted his glass to Anders and Fenris before downing it. 

”It’s good fodder for sappy romance novels, I’m thinking that surly bartender in the Inspector Donnic stories might just find love with a charmingly mysterious man of the night in my next novel.” Varric teased, and Fenris rolled his eyes while Anders bristled in pretend indignation. 

”Why am _I_ the prostitute in the story?” He complained. “Can’t I be a doctor or a rich philanthropist or something?” 

”You can inherit some money.” Varric consoled Anders. “And I never said you were a prostitute, just that you’re mysterious.” He chuckled and left them then, and Anders pretended to pout until Fenris kissed his dramatic frowns away. 

”I will speak with him.” Fenris promised. “Perhaps he can elevate your status to an escort service?” 

”You are terrible!” Anders laughed, but he played with the idea in his head. Him, an escort? Varric’s popular pulp detective story was dramatic and ridiculous, full of heaving bosoms and tense shootouts in dark alleyways. And Detective Donnic always sought information from a particularly glum elven bartender named Ferris, with flashing bright eyes and tattoos that wound around his limbs like silver ivy. Wouldn’t a pretty man draped in fancy furs and slinky silks liven up the bartender’s life? Anders thought so. He could already see the stories Varric would spill from his fingers, and he knew he’d be shelling out money to get the newest novel. 

”You love it. I can tell.” Fenris teased. Anders laughed, and turned his attention to Hawke, who stood on a stool and called for attention. 

”We’ll be exchanging the White Druffalo gifts now! Just grab a gift from the table. Don’t grab your own.” There was a mad dash for gifts, and then everyone started unwrapping gifts. 

Fenris and Anders’s cookie jars were picked up by Carver and Isabela. Isabela seemed pleased, while Carver looked mystified. 

”Looks like you’ll have to use your oven now!” Hawke joked, and Carver elbowed his older sibling in the stomach and muttered something under his breath. 

Merrill got a pretty pair of dangling earrings from Bethany, and Bethany got a pair of orange mittens from Aveline. Aveline got a carved figurine of a mabari from Carver. Donnic got a scarf from Sebastian, and Sebastian picked out Isabela’s gift and refused to share it with the group. He shoved the bag under his chair, and Isabela gave him a wink while Sebastian’s face flushed bright red. Varric got a collection of scented candles from Merrill. Fenris received a bottle of wine from Isabela, and Anders got a pair of gloves from Donnic. Both were appreciated. Hawke refused to participate on the grounds that they were hosting, but everyone knew it was because Hawke was terrible at giving gifts. 

Then they sat around the fireplace and swapped stories. Isabela shared some Rivaini traditions, mostly the different dances she learned as a child. Varric talked about growing up in a dwarven household when he didn’t feel connected to living underground in a thaig. The Hawke family swapped family tales, and Sebastian shyly talked about his grandfather and how they went for walks in the woods every Satinalia eve. Merrill spoke of growing up with her clan and how they celebrated the Homecoming Festival, and Fenris commented on the differences between her traditions and the way his family celebrated in Minrathous. Anders spoke of the Anderfels, and the traditions on the farming commune he lived in. They placed shoes at the end of the bed and expected candies from spirits of compassion, and then when he was in his Chantry sponsored foster homes he was banned from such practices. Superstition and foolishness, he was told, but Anders held those traditions dear. He was glad to share them with his children now, even if it was silly and Nick was growing too old for such games. 

As they drove back home Fenris held Anders’s hand. 

”Ghilan’nain loved Andruil.” Fenris said suddenly when they reached a stop sign. Anders glanced over at his fiancé, taking special note of the way the street lights outlined his strong profile and aquiline nose. “She wanted vengeance against those who hurt her, but I think most of all she wanted Andruil by her side.” 

”Andruil was with Ghilan’nain, though, wasn’t she? She turned Ghilan’nain into a halla.” Anders asked slowly. Fenris seemed rather drunk, and he wondered how much wine he drank before cutting himself off for the night. Fenris rarely looked so soft and open unless he was dancing. But here he was, staring out the window with a half smile on his face. Beautiful. 

”A miracle.” Fenris agreed. “She ended her suffering the only way she knew how. She brought her lover peace” Fenris turned to Anders then, and Anders was thankful that no one else was on the road because they would have to just go around them. Fenris did not just seem soft and open. He was vulnerable, as if a gust of wind could blow him away into a pile of ash and dust. 

”Some days I feel like Ghilan’nain. I want to hurt the world for what it did to me.” Fenris confessed. “Those days are hard, but you… you are like Andruil. You fight the world to make it better. You help me be strong. You’re a miracle. You brought me home.” 

And what were you supposed to say to that? How did you respond when the man you loved called you a miracle? Anders had no idea. 

”Maker.” Anders managed to croak out. “Are you trying to get me to drop my smalls?” 

Fenris laughed and squeezed Anders’s hand in his own. 

“No. But that is not unwelcome.” Fenris finally said. “We’ll make sure the children are asleep before we try.” 

They drove down the silent streets, following the many lights that led to home.

__

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading this story! I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Also, I would like to ask my readers for a bit of help on the next bit of this story. If any of my readers are Jewish, I would truly appreciate your help beta reading the next part and give me your critiques while I try to incorporate Judaism into elvish culture. Please send me a message at my [if you would like to help me out! Thank you!](http://contreparry.tumblr.com/ask)


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